


(spell)bound

by momotastic



Series: Pornalot 2017 [4]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Canon Era, Hand Jobs, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Substitution, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-19 12:25:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11897691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momotastic/pseuds/momotastic
Summary: A campfire, a noisy couple, and two pining knights who find comfort in each other.





	(spell)bound

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Challenge Four: Bound](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11931414) by [Pornalot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pornalot/pseuds/Pornalot). 



> Written for Round 4 of Pornalot 2017: Bound
> 
> This is a slightly longer version (by ~100 words).

_They’re mesmerising_ , Lancelot thinks.

Of course the knights all know about Merlin and Arthur – how could they not? You just had to watch them for about a minute to _know_. They’d never tell anyone, though. None of them would betray their prince’s trust – or Merlin’s, as it happens.

Yet, knowing is one thing. Hearing, on the other hand.

Well.

It’s not like the two of them put on a show on purpose. Probably. It’s just that with all the longing glances and not-so-subtle head tilting, it cranks up the sexual tension in their little campsite, so all of them go to bed much more excited than they’d like with no outlet.

They’re not too far from the castle tonight, as it happens, and they could’ve easily gone back before dark and avoided having to watch Merlin and Arthur make eyes at each other.

But they all rather fancied staying outside for the night and escaping the stifling need for etiquette at the castle. Especially Arthur, who’s been working twice as hard since his father fell ill, needs the  break from council meetings and well-meaning advisors. It was Leon who suggested that they roast the rabbits they caught over the campfire, and catch new ones for the castle tomorrow. Arthur had grasped the excuse readily.

Now, the prince and his beloved are tucked away in a shadowed corner of the camp, huddled close together despite the warm air of a midsummer night. None of the knights question this anymore, if they ever did.

It’s just that tonight, for some reason, Merlin fails to stay quiet, and Arthur fails to silence him.

Lancelot’s got first watch, but he’s sure none of his comrades are sleeping either. Merlin practically sat in Arthur’s lap earlier while they ate. No amount of ale could make you look away when Arthur undresses Merlin with his eyes – and no matter how good the wine, it couldn’t distract you from the way Merlin’s eyes burn with desire whenever Arthur licks grease off his fingers.

After turning in for sleep, it only took a short while before the first quiet gasps could be heard. They were barely audible, and Lancelot had had to strain his ears to be sure that they were what he thought they were, and not an approaching enemy with some kind of respiratory affliction.

Since then, the gasps have turned into low moans, loud enough for anyone in the camp – or outside of it – to hear.

Lancelot knows he ought not to eavesdrop, but what’s a man to do when he’s got the chance to find out how two of the people he loves most sound in the midst of— passion?

“Arthur,” Merlin moans, louder than before, and this time another moan answers him – but it’s not in Arthur’s voice.

Clothes rustle, and when Lancelot looks over to the camp, he can see that Leon’s eyes are open, and his right hand’s inside his breeches, moving quickly. Lancelot swallows thickly, and looks away to give Leon the small bit of privacy he can.

Another groan echoes from the corner where Merlin and Arthur lie, and then the slick sound of skin on skin can be heard clear as a bell in the quiet of the night.

Lancelot’s hard, too, but he daren’t touch himself while he’s on guard. He’ll wait until his shift is over, and then satisfy himself before going to sleep. Or so he thinks, when a hand covers his mouth, and another cups his prick through the fabric of his breeches.

“You’re a crap guard if I could get to you this easily,” Gwaine whispers into Lancelot’s ear. “Poised to catch every last sigh and whimper of them, aren’t you? It’s like you’re spellbound.”

He’s right of course. Lancelot was so focused on ignoring his arousal that he forgot everything else. He couldn’t hear anything besides Merlin and Arthur for however long they’ve been at it, and hadn’t looked out over the camp since he spotted Leon for fear of finding another one of his friends pleasuring himself.

Gwaine’s presence, however, is not at all unwelcome.

“Can you blame me for being distracted?” Lancelot whispers back once Gwaine takes his hand off his mouth. “They’re not exactly quiet.”

“No, they’re not,” Gwaine agrees, and rubs his hand over Lancelot’s prick.

Lancelot gasps, and quickly bites his fist to keep quiet. The camp’s tense enough with just the noises from Merlin and Arthur, it doesn’t need Lancelot’s or Gwaine’s as well.

Gwaine nips at Lancelot’s earlobe, and moves his hand inside Lancelot’s breeches, better to wrap his hand around his shaft and start to stroke him. Lancelot can’t help but rock into Gwaine’s hand, and finally he releases the tight grip he has on the pommel of his sword, and reaches back for Gwaine’s prick to return the favour.

They’re each not who they truly want, but since neither of them can have Merlin – or Arthur – they’ve sought out one another more often than not. Lancelot turns his head, now, giving up entirely on the pretense that he’s still watching out for the camp’s safety, and kisses Gwaine.

Another loud moan, and then there’s Arthur’s voice, hoarse and breathy all at once, gasping Merlin’s name. It’s what tips Lancelot over the edge, and he bites down hard on his bottom lip to keep from crying out himself. The stain in his breeches will be hidden by the dark fabric and the chainmail, thankfully, but he isn’t even thinking about that at the moment. As soon as his thighs have stopped trembling, he turns and falls to his knees to take Gwaine into his mouth.

Gwaine comes only moments later, spilling between Lancelot’s lips. Whether it’s from Lancelot’s tongue that dipped into his slit, or the sound of Merlin reaching climax, Lancelot doesn’t know – nor does he care.

He laces up Gwaine’s breeches, and gets back to his feet. He’s pulled into another fierce kiss, before he finally pushes Gwaine away.

“I need to get back to my post,” Lancelot says, not without regret. Curling up with Gwaine is tempting, but he has a duty. Besides, neither of them agreed to anything more than mutual pleasure when they started this, each of their hearts bound too tightly to the ones they can never have.

 _Maybe it’s time to unravel that knot and tie new bonds_ , Lancelot thinks, and turns back to watch the dark forest around them, steadfastly ignoring the happy sigh of Merlin in the far corner of the camp as he kisses Arthur goodnight.


End file.
